


In Plain English

by MayaCatFairy



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Death, F/F, F/M, Grief, Grief/Mourning, HIV/AIDS, I'm so sorry, Love, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaCatFairy/pseuds/MayaCatFairy
Summary: "At least death means I'll never be scared about dying again."Sometimes it's easier to write your feelings than saying them aloud.





	1. Dear Marvin

My Dearest, Marvin.

I've just spent about an hour thinking about what I want to say in this letter, and now I can't remember any of it. So, I guess I'm winging it. 

I'll start with saying that I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I'm dying. That I'll already be dead by the time you read this. I don't believe in miracles. I don't believe that I'll get better. It just won't happen, as much as I wish it could, so I'm sorry.

I love you. I love you more than anything in the world. There is nothing I've ever wanted more than you. Nothing I've been more grateful for.

It feels like it's been longer than it has, but at the same time, it feels like the time we've had together has passed by in a second. That's life, I guess.

I wish I wasn't dying. I hate death. Most people say that they aren't scared of dying, but I'm not a lier, at least not to you. I'm fucking scared. More scared than I've ever been. I'm not ready for this. Hell, at least death means I'll never be scared about dying again. 

You must never say that I passed away. That's too passive, too gentle. Say that I died. I deserve that much, don't you think? I died. Even if it hurts to say it, do it for me.

Aren't dying people supposed to want their lovers to move on? Screw that. I want you to stay hung up on me for the rest of your life, which is really fucking selfish of me. Don't listen to me, okay? I don't want your method of dealing with your grief to be going out and fucking people, but if you meet somebody who's nearly as good as I am/was, go ahead. Just so long as you choose me when you get to Heaven, if there is such a place.

Damnit, I'm so mad. I'm a man in my prime, for god's sake. I shouldn't be dying. 

Did you know my hair is falling out? It's hard to tell cause of that hat I wear all the time now, but I guess you know. You know everything. 

I hate this goddamned hospital gown thingy. It is ugly, and covers less than half of my body. Normally I'd be fine with that, but, well, you know how I look now. Nothing like I used to.

Whatever, I don't care. I wish I could remember what I wanted to say, because this is the most unorganized letter I've ever written. I hate untidy things. Well, except for you.

Aw, I just managed to say something romantic. Wasn't that sweet?

I hope you miss me.

I love you. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

Your Lover,

Whizzer

P.S. I've written you more letters, but you can't open them yet. The envelopes will tell you when you can open them.

Fuck, I can't end the letter with that. Okay, okay.

I love you.  
I'm sorry.   
I'll miss you.

Your unlikely lover, 

Whizzer

Damnit, I messed up my signature. I'm so fucking tired I can't even write my own name properly.

I love you I'm sorry I'll miss you I love you goodbye

Love  
Whizzer

Shit, I forgot to say that you need to remember to take care of Jason, and stay friends with Cordelia and Charlotte, and have dinner with Trina and Mendel once a week damnit I'm so tired

Whizzer


	2. Dear Marvin (Part 2)

DO NOT OPEN UNTIL TWO YEARS AFTER MY DEATH

Dear Marvin

Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? Well, not for me, I'm writing this just a few minutes after I last saw you. Hardly seems fair, does it? I wrote the letter you read right after my death last night, just so you know.

I'm sorry for how messy that letter was. I was just really tired. I still am.

I hope you're doing alright. Being the selfish man I am, there's a part of me that doesn't want you have moved on, but the bigger part of me wants what's best for you. 

If you have a new lover, well, send him my love. Actually, I think I'll write a letter to him, so please give it to him.

Hopefully you're still close to Cordelia and Charlotte. Hopefully you still get Jason on the weekends. Hopefully you, Trina, and Mendel have kept things friendly and civilized.

If you have no friends, and never leave your house because of me, stop it. I'm no excuse to be unsocial. I don't deserve the guilt of that. If you haven't showered for a few days because of me, go shower, you smell horrible.

Instead of being sad, go play some racquetball. Take some photos. Remember me in a healthy way. God, I sound like a psychiatrist. Tell Mendel to watch out, I'm going to take his job.

I love you very much. 

Your lover,

Whizzer


	3. Dear Marvin's Lover

Dear Marvin's Lover

Let's get a few things straight. First off, I am the original. You can never compete with me, because Marvin will always love me the most. Second, I am really jealous of you, because you get to spend your healthy life with my lover. Third, when you and Marvin die, hopefully in a long time, Marvin is going to be with me in heaven, not you. 

Now that we've got that out of the way, let me introduce myself, although I'm sure Marvin's told you all about me. If he hasn't, well, I guess you aren't as close as you thought.

I'm Whizzer Brown. Don't ask about the name. I'm dying, or, well, dead, for you.

You had better treat Marvin well. He deserves it. After what he went through with me, God knows he needs some peace. And you need to give it to him. Be faithful. Be kind. Don't be passionate and argumentative, that spot has already been taken. If you hurt him, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.

I don't have much else to say. 

Marvin's dead lover,

Whizzer Brown.


	4. Dear Whizzer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is set right after Marvin reads the letter meant to be opened two years after Whizzer's death.

Dear Whizzer

I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't know what to say. I can imagine you, just, laughing at my idiocy.

I suppose I'll just tell you about my life.

I don't have a lover. I've tried to meet some new people in the last year, mostly due to Cordelia's obsessing over my love life, but they never worked out. 

Things are really boring without you. I still live alone, although I got a different apartment. It's just on the other side of Charlotte and Cordelia's apartment, and is nearly identical to our old one. I just couldn't stand sleeping in a bed that smelled like you, living alone while you should've been there.

I kind of miss it, though. It was nice to be able to imagine you sitting next to me. 

I play racquetball occasionally, with Cordelia. She's pretty good. It scares me, though. Everytime we get out there, I'm just dreading her collapsing. Like you. 

Jason stays with me on the weekends. He misses you, but I don't think he remembers you that we'll anymore. On Sunday evening, Mendel and Trina come over and we all have dinner with Cordelia and Charlotte, then they take Jason home.

I really miss you. I miss being loved by somebody. I miss loving somebody. And, I know, I know, the neighbours love me and I love them, Jason loves me and I love him; but it's not the same. 

I love you.

Your unlikely lover,

Marvin


	5. Dear Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written right after Whizzer left Jason's Bar Mitzvah, and given to Jason a week after Whizzer's death.

Dear Jason

I'm so sorry I had to leave your party. It was really nice. I would have stayed, but I'm just so tired all the time.

I'm also really sorry I'm dying. Or dead, when you're reading this. I really liked you, Jason. I'm not normally good with kids, but you and I just got along so well. It was fun to know you.

You've gone through way too much for a kid your age. I mean, lots of parents get divorced, but not as many get divorced because the father is queer and has a lover, who ends up dying. But, you're more mature than most kids anyway.

Look, I have to tell you something. I don't know how much they told you about the disease I have. They really don't know much about it themselves. But, it's killing me, and I won't be alive much longer. I have it because I have sex with men, they think. This doesn't mean that it's wrong to have sex with men, though. That's like saying that nobody should go outside and be near other people, because they might catch a cold. Now, because your father has had sex with me, there's a possibility that he might get sick too. So, you need to be very careful, and keep a close watch on him. If he starts coughing, or comes down with a fever, let Dr. Charlotte take a look at him. He mustn't die.

You're a great kid. Keep playing chess, keep playing baseball. You're going to be president one day, I bet.

Thank you for everything you've done.

Your friend,

Whizzer


	6. Dear Charlotte

Dear Charlotte

I hope you won't feel responsible for my death. There really was nothing you could do. Even before that day on the raqcuetball courts, I knew something was wrong. I was so thin, and so tired all the time. I coughed a lot, and had a fever. Marvin just thought I had a cold. I can't blame him, though; I worked hard to hide it. I've always had trouble asking for help. Seems like a Marvin thing, doesn't it? I just can't stand to admit defeat. And, I guess, getting sick and telling someone would've been admitting defeat.

Would I still be alive if I had told you, or anybody? Could I have been saved? Or is there no cure at all? Probably isn't. You hardly know what this damn disease in, how could you have a cure? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

Take care of Marvin; he'll need help. He's going to be devastated. Keep an eye on him, if he starts getting sick at all, drag him to the hospital and force him to get tested for this stupid thing. He shouldn't die. Not for a long time.

Thank you for everything you've done for me. God knows how hard it's been for you. It must be hard to try to be professional when one of your friends is dying. I don't think I could handle being professional while anybody was dying, let alone a close friend. 

It feels as if you're the only one who doesn't pretend that a miricle could happen. If God really exists, he has bigger things to worry about than a man dying quietly in a hospital bed. Let him deal with war, and hunger. Not something everybody says he thinks is a sin.

I love you.

Your neighbor and friend,

Whizzer


End file.
